


A Bag Full of Licorice

by lockwoodstie (PilotInTheStars)



Category: Lockwood & Co. - Jonathan Stroud
Genre: Cubbones can be read romantically or platonically, F/M, Gen, Hats, The Flo and Mrs. Cubbins fic I've been meaning to write for ages, licorice - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:34:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22530301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PilotInTheStars/pseuds/lockwoodstie
Summary: Flo finally meets Mrs. Cubbins.A birthday gift for Sharknana29.
Relationships: Flo Bones & George Cubbins, Flo Bones & Mrs. Cubbins, Flo Bones/George Cubbins, George Cubbins & Mrs. Cubbins
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17





	A Bag Full of Licorice

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sharknana29](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharknana29/gifts).



> I've been meaning to write this for ages. 
> 
> Happy (belated) birthday to Sharknana29! I hope it was a good one. <3
> 
> When writing, I wrote Flo and George's relationship to be romantic, but I think it can also be read as platonic too.

"My mother wants to see me."

Flo looked up from her pile of things she had gathered that day as George took his glasses off and rubbed them on his coat. He looked up through them at the sky to test their cleanness, and placed them back on the bridge of his nose. 

“I guess hearing that your only child was almost beaten to death, and then aided in ruining the reputation of the most popular agency in the country makes you worry.”

“When?” Flo asked, piling things in her lavender-infused sack.

“Tomorrow, I think.”

She hoisted the bag over her shoulder and stood up. They set off down the Thames, walking in that comfortable silence that was so familiar between them. It was a colder afternoon- one that bit even through Flo’s giant puffy jacket. 

“I haven’t seen her in a while,” George said. “I just hope I haven’t worried her too much.”

“We worried enough for you. Try to not worry your mum.”

“But I’m fine now! Full recovery and all.”

Flo nodded. She didn’t like to think about that much, the pure disconnection when she heard about what had happened to George. She just wanted to forget about it. 

When she eventually returned to the river after being at 35 Portland Row for what felt like forever, she curled up underneath her bridge to rest and broke down.

That she kept to herself. No one else really needed to hear about that. 

“You want me to meet ‘er, huh?”

“Only if you’d like to, Flo.” They kept walking, the mud of the bank squishing beneath their feet. “If you want then that’s alright. And if you don’t, I’ll make some excuse for you.”

Flo nodded and wiped at her face. “You’ve told her about me?”

“I mentioned you. Sorry, I hope that’s alright.”

“It’s alright.” They found their usual spot, a low-built wall, just the right height to sit on and watch over the Thames. “Mind if I think about it?”

“Of course, Flo.”

They climbed up onto the wall, sitting close together. Their hands were resting side by side, and Flo’s pinky finger interlocked with George’s. No one saw, and no one knew the better of it.

She grinned to herself as they watched the river go by.

* * *

George went the next day to spend the weekend with his mother, and Flo agreed to meet her. There was a silent agreement between then, and George knew her well- if she needed to leave, she would, and George would cover for her.

He gave her the address to his mother’s house in north London, and she managed to find her way up there eventually by early afternoon.

George was waiting on the porch for her. Flo walked up the steps to greet him, and the door immediately opened so his mother could greet her. Perhaps it was that motherly instinct mothers had that had them always knew what was going on in their house.

Flo froze for a moment, but then tried to shake it off.

_Just George’s mum._

But if there was any judgement or fear or apprehension, Mrs. Cubbins didn’t show it.

“It’s so lovely to meet you, Flo.”

“It's nice to meet you too."

"Would you like to come inside?” Mrs. Cubbins made for the door and Flo cast a look towards George. 

“Actually, Mum, could we sit out in the back for a bit? It’s such a nice day out.”

Mrs. Cubbins nodded. “Of course. Let me just go get the tea from inside.”

She went to the garden a minute later, and George and Flo walked quickly through the house to the back.

Flo noticed that there was a coffee mug on the tray, a bowl of sugar with it.

Mrs. Cubbins passed it to her.

“Thanks.”

“No worries, dear.”

The conversation was mostly between George and his mother, and Mrs. Cubbins asked her a few questions- nothing invasive. Simple questions. 

It was a nice evening, in fact, one of the nicest evenings she had had in a long time. It was a change from her everyday reality. 

But the sun was about to set soon, and the spirits were about to wake up from their daytime rest, and Flo had to go to meet them. They walked quickly from the back of the house to the front and Flo went onto the front porch.

“Before you go, Flo. George mentioned they were your favorite.” Mrs. Cubbins reached for something on the side table and handed a paper bag to Flo. She smiled and Flo tried her best to give one back through the shock.

“Be safe, dear.”

Mrs. Cubbins turned back inside, and Flo spun on her heel to head back to her spot underneath the bridge.

During her walk home, Flo opened the bag that Mrs. Cubbins had given her. It was filled with licorice, from the bottom to the top.

She smiled.

* * *

It a pretty dreary day, and the wind and the rain had more than just a bite to it. Flo was up during the day, not common, but she hadn’t been sleeping as well lately.

The banks of the Thames where she was currently walking remained fairly empty. Flo always knew where people- and those who were dead -were when they were around her. She wasn’t going to ever make that mistake again.

She looked up to find Mrs. Cubbins stood on the steps of the bridge, an umbrella in one hand and a small, unadorned bag on one arm.

“George said I might find you here. I hope it is alright for me to visit, dear. If you are busy I can come back another time."

Flo stood, a bit flabbergasted at it all. She didn’t expect her to be there. “Not busy, no.”

Mrs. Cubbins started to walk down the steps.

“Er, careful- muddy down here.”

“It’s alright, I’ve got my boots.” Flo glanced down and indeed saw the pink wellies on Mrs. Cubbins’ feet. The woman cheerfully ambled down the steps and down onto the banks of the river. 

“It’s quite cold out today, dear.”

Flo nodded. The cold had its bite, but she had been used to it for years now. You had to, to survive out there. “Yeah.”

“George mentioned that you liked blue,” Mrs. Cubbins began, reaching into her shopping bag, “so I thought you might like a hat. You have your lovely straw one, of course, but it won’t keep out the chill.” She pulled out a knit hat- indeed blue -the color of the ocean in the summer.

Flo stood frozen for a moment, but carefully took the hat from Mrs. Cubbins’ hands. She stared at it. 

“Thank you.”

George’s mother smiled.

“Of course, dear.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed.


End file.
